


All I Want For Christmas (Is Articulated Man-Parts)

by therumjournals



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Christmas, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therumjournals/pseuds/therumjournals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Christmas morning on a strange planet, Jim and Spock find themselves placed in some very…compromising positions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want For Christmas (Is Articulated Man-Parts)

Jim awoke in darkness, paralyzed by fear. No, no, wait – that wasn’t fear. That was just – oh. Just paralyzed then. His arms and legs were stiff, his breath coming quickly – no. No, actually, he was pretty sure he wasn’t even breathing. He was alive though, he could at least _think_ about how he wasn’t breathing, even if - _Spock!_. No sound from his lips. He tried to focus, to figure out where he was – he felt closed in. Some kind of prison? Some kind of mental hell where he could think but couldn’t – agh, what was that?! A violent shaking, like a frenzied earthquake, knocked him back and forth against the walls. The walls felt close, stifling. The shaking stopped, but the darkness made it hard for him to get his bearings. He willed himself to relax, and tried to remember how he'd gotten here...

*

"Captain, they're going to warp."

"Follow them!" Kirk bellowed, leaning forward in his chair. "Don't lose that ship! No one just...just... _absconds_ with one of my crewmembers and gets away with it!"

“Yes, sir!” Sulu’s fingers flew over his display, and Kirk slumped back into his seat as the Enterprise warped into pursuit.

The mission, if it could be called that, had been one of the more insulting of Kirk's captaincy. They'd been asked to provide transport for three passengers from one of Earth’s wealthiest mining colonies – the two children of a prominent ambassador and their somewhat frazzled nanny. Kirk didn’t go so far as to question their orders, but once the screen went black on Admiral Komack’s transmission, he spent a good fifteen minutes ranting to Spock that making sure two brats got home in time for Christmas was not exactly what he’d signed up for.

As it turned out, the three day trip was an exercise in patience and diplomacy the likes of which he seriously doubted any other mission could approach. The children – Veru, a stuck-up little princess and her bratty brother Cerick - were spoiled beyond belief, and Kirk found himself privy to more than one full-fledged foot-stamping, red-faced tantrum, which they seemed to dispense with disturbing regularity.

The crew had been overjoyed to finally welcome the ambassador aboard for a brief visit, if only because it meant that he would soon be removing the pint-sized hellions from the Enterprise. The children had dragged their father eagerly around the ship, pointing out the things that they wanted - "Can I have my own biobed? Papa, can I have a replicator in my room? Papa, I want a warp core!" By the time the crew had shuffled them back to the transporter room and seen them on their merry way, Kirk was quite frankly relieved that the ship was still intact.

His relief lasted all of five minutes, at which point Scotty'd commed him on the bridge, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "Captain, I don't wish to cause unnecessary alarm, but...I cannae find Keenser anywhere."

*

“The ambassador’s ship is dropping out of warp, Captain.”

“Follow them. Where the hell are we?”

“Approaching a small, M-class planet. It looks like the ambassador’s ship is heading for the surface.”

“Put us into orbit. Spock, report.”

“The surface of the planet appears to consist primarily of ice, with large areas engulfed in blizzard conditions. Temperatures average approximately negative 34 degrees Celsius.”

“Sounds like Delta Vega,” Kirk muttered, with an involuntary shiver. “Inhabitants?”

“A concentrated population on the northern-most continent, which appears to be the ambassador’s destination. Structures and energy readings indicate the presence of some sort of industry.”

“Well,” Kirk said, heaving himself up from his chair. “Let’s go check it out. Spock, Uhura, you’re with me. Sulu, you have the conn.” He hit the comm. button. “Scotty?”

“Aye, Captain?”

“Meet us at the transporter room. And bundle up.”

By the time they reached the transporter room, swathed in layers of Starfleet issue fleece beneath their fur-lined jackets, Kirk could feel beads of sweat forming at his temples. Still, he wrapped his scarf a little more snugly around his neck before stepping onto the pad. He glanced around to make sure everyone was ready, checked his hip for his phaser one more time, and nodded the go-ahead for beam down.

“And please don’t let there be any monsters,” he muttered to himself just before the room disappeared in a shimmer of light.

The wind whipped at their faces and swirling snow obscured their vision, but Spock was already scanning the surface, cocking his head to indicate the direction they should take. Straight into the wind, of course. There was no sign of life as they moved quickly across the tundra, trying to keep up with Scotty’s nervous jog. Jim shielded his eyes against the gale as the first low outbuildings came into sight up ahead.

Uhura said something, muffled by her scarf and the wind, but Jim followed her mittened hand to see what she was pointing to – a figure was making its way across the snow toward a low door.

Jim knew an opportunity when he saw one. Just as the figure disappeared inside, he raced ahead, catching the door just before it clicked shut. He gestured for the others, and they slipped inside.

The bang of the door slamming shut behind them was lost amidst the cacophony of sound that immediately assaulted their ears, a great clanking and hammering of machinery that echoed all around them. They pressed themselves against the wall as they gaped, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at their surroundings. They seemed to have entered some sort of factory - conveyor belts criss-crossed the floor, going up and down and up up up toward the impossibly high ceiling. Jim squinted in confusion – he was almost positive the building they’d just entered had barely broken the planet’s surface, much less stretched into the sky as this seemed to. In amongst the conveyor belts, various mechanized equipment stamped and bent and fastened before coughing unidentifiable objects out onto the belts.

Every inch of the floor that wasn’t covered with machinery was occupied by living workers, lining the edges of the conveyor belts to attach pieces or dab on paint, and occasionally to shout something or toss an item over a shoulder to one of the piles of unwanted merchandise that gathered behind them.

The air inside was almost as cold as it had been outside, which explained why the workers were bundled in jackets, fur-lined boots on their feet, scarves wrapped around their lower faces and knit caps pulled down firmly over their ears. At least, Jim assumed they had ears – from here all Jim could tell was that they were humanoid, with dark eyes peeking out from between their hats and scarves. Jim pulled his own hat a little lower and gestured for the others to do the same.

Jim felt a touch on his shoulder and jumped, startled, but it was only Spock, catching Jim’s attention to point out what looked like a kind of control booth in the corner. Jim nodded and began to inch his way toward it along the wall.

They’d made it almost halfway, when suddenly one of the workers appeared in front of Jim. Before he could react, a strong hand shot out to grab a hold of him, and he was yanked out toward the floor.

“You must work!” the being shouted over the noise of the machines. “He is coming!”

Jim resisted, struggling against the viselike grip on his arm. “Who?” he yelled back.

The answer was cut off by the screech of a machine, and Jim stumbled as he was suddenly released. He felt Spock’s presence by his side and he knew without looking that Spock’s phaser was out and aimed at his assailant.

Just then there was a blast of freezing air as the wall beside them opened, lifting into the ceiling like a massive garage door. They squinted as the bright white glare of the sun hit their eyes, obscuring the features of the hulking figure silhouetted in the entrance.

“Who is this?” boomed the giant’s deep voice.

Jim bit back a shiver and stood a little straighter, raising his voice loud enough to be heard. “I am Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise. One of our crew has been brought to this planet. What is this place? Who are you?”

Hearty laughter echoed around them as the figure shook with the strength of his guffaws. “Captain Kirk! And this must be Spock!”

Jim could feel Spock shivering beside him, and wondered if there was any chance that they could continue this conversation with the door closed.

“Wonderful!” The giant laughed again, causing the tools in his great leather work-apron to clink against each other. He gestured out over the factory with a massive, ham-like hand. “Welcome to my workshop!”

“And you are?” Jim asked, his teeth clenched partly in anger and partly to prevent himself from stuttering with the cold.

“I? Why I am the-“

The end of his sentence was a buzz of static in their ears, and Jim shot Uhura a questioning look. She was already on it, mittens off and fingers dancing over her communicator. “I’m not sure, Captain. The translator doesn’t seem to be picking up a Standard equivalent.”

Their host didn’t seem to notice this exchange. He was looking over their heads, motioning to someone behind them.

Uhura’s fingers flew across her communicator and she stared intently at the screen. “The creator… producer…no, wait – I got it –“ Her brows furrowed and she looked up at Jim in disbelief. “Captain, he’s…the Toymaker.”

Jim exchanged a quick glance with Spock and took a breath to reply, but before he could he was immobilized, his arms pinned roughly behind his back by one of the workers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that another one had Spock in his grasp. He stared desperately at Spock, trying to convey through his eyes that they should fight. Spock blinked his understanding, and a moment later they wrenched away from their captors in a simultaneous motion. The next few seconds were a blur, fists flying as they fought desperately to avoid re-capture. Jim got hold of a scarf, yanked and kicked and took one of them down, landing hard across the prone body. Spock was saying something beside him, probably something to the effect that they should _run_ , but Jim couldn’t hear him, couldn’t turn to look at him, could only stare as he tried to process what he was seeing.

Below him, dark eyes looked up at him above pale cheeks. The knit cap that had been pulled down tightly against the cold had slipped in the tussle, revealing a perfectly pointed ear.

“Spock,” Jim whispered, just before everything went dark – “They’re _Vulcan_.”

*

And that was the last thing Jim remembered before he’d awoken here, unable to move a muscle, trapped somewhere dark and earthquake-prone. With that thought came another jarring tremor, a great tearing sound, and a beam of light that pierced the darkness as a crack opened in the wall. Light! That had to be good thing. Or maybe not, as it was immediately followed by a huge eye staring at him from the open wall.

“What is it, let me see?!”

“Get away, dummy, this one’s mine, _I_ get to open it!”

Jim recognized those voices, and he recognized the flare of intense annoyance that shot through him at the sound – a reaction that he’d become far too familiar with over the last week on the ship. He was just beginning to put the pieces together when the wall in front of him fell away, and he found himself staring into the giant, cherubic face of Veru.

He could only look on in horror as a sticky hand clasped his middle, and he was raised high up in the air, wincing against the shriek of excitement. “Papa, Papa, look! I got one! My very own Captain Kirk, just like I wanted!”

Just like she…what? Oh god, thought Kirk with a sickening feeling, which was exacerbated by the way Veru was swooping him up and down as she flailed her arms in excitement.

“Hey, look what I got!” her brother said, and Veru swung around just in time for Jim to catch a glimpse of Science blue between Cerick’s fingers. “That Spock guy!”

 _Spock!_ Relief flooded through Jim’s chest, along with an aching frustration that he couldn’t move or speak.

 _Captain. Are you uninjured?_ Spock’s words filled his mind, though the lips of the Spock-shaped figurine clutched in Cerick’s fist hadn’t moved.

 _Spock? How did you do that? Can you hear me?_

 _I can hear you. It seems that we can direct our thoughts toward each other to communicate, though I presume you, too, are unable to move your limbs?_

 _You presume correctly, Mr. Spock,_ Jim thought at him. _Hey, Spock._

 _Yes, Captain?_

 _What the fuck is going on?_

Whatever Spock was about to say was cut off by a wailing sound as Veru burst into tears. She sucked in a wet, stuttering breath and screamed at the top of her lungs “BUT I WANTED SPOCK, TOO!”

From Jim’s vantage point, he could see Cerick rolling his eyes, saw him thrust out the hand gripping Spock around the middle.

“Here, take it. I don’t want a stupid doll anyway. I’m gonna go find that lumpy green alien, he’s _way_ more fun.”

Veru shot out a hand to grab Spock from her brother, and suddenly Spock was there, his unyielding bodies pressed tightly against Jim’s in Veru’s clasped hands. Up close, Jim could see the details of Spock’s molded figure, dark eyes painted onto the shiny plastic of his skin, his mouth a rather accurate representation of his usual stern expression.

Jim had a sudden urge to reach out and hug him, to throw his arms around his stoic first officer and never let him go. But his arms remained stiffly at his sides, for which he was almost thankful, as every fiber of his being seemed to sing with the need to pull Spock to him.

He pushed the thought away and turned his mind to the issue at hand.

 _So,_ he thought, _apparently we’re dolls now?_

 _It would appear we have been transformed into miniaturized reproductions of ourselves._

 _Weird._ And yet…Jim found himself strangely accepting of the fact. To be honest, weirder things had happened to the crew of the Enterprise. _And do you think the lumpy green alien the kid was talking about is Keenser_?

 _I would presume so, yes._

 _You sure presume a lot, Spock._

Suddenly they were jostled, and Jim felt a keen sense of loss as they were pulled apart. Veru held one of them in each hand and stood them on a table facing each other.

“Commander Spock,” she said, in what Jim supposed was intended to be a very serious and authoritative tone. “Klingons are approaching. Get ready to kill them.”

Straight and to the point, Jim thought wryly.

“Oh yes, Captain, whatever you say, Captain,” Veru said, waggling Spock’s figure in her other hand. “I am at your service!”

Jim wondered if Spock could sense the hysterical laughter that was going on inside his head. He heard Spock’s bemused thoughts. _Apparently, the child did not observe our interactions._

“Spock, for the billionth time, call me Jim,” Veru answered herself.

Jim raised an internal eyebrow. _Apparently, she did._

“Oh Jim! Oh Spock!” Veru said, and slammed their bodies forcefully together.

Jim knew he couldn’t feel anything – he couldn’t feel the hard shell of his body, nor that of Spock’s, and he couldn’t feel the way his face was being bashed repeatedly against Spock’s plastic lips. And yet he felt as though a flush of heat traveled across his skin, the sensation of a heart beating faster within his molded chest.

Spock’s voice even sounded closer to his ear. _What is happening?_

Jim couldn’t keep the smile from his response. _I think we’re kissing, Spock._

 _Kissing._

 _Yeah, Spock. You know…touching lips. Smooching. Puckering up._

 _I am aware of the custom._

 _Yeah, I know. I saw you engaging in it with Uhura on the transporter pad, remember?_ It wasn’t one of Jim’s fondest memories, and yet he found himself replaying it in his mind with surprising frequency.

Above them, Veru was making rather elaborate lip-smacking sounds.

 _Sounds like I’m slipping you the tongue,_ Jim thought with a smirk.

“Veru, what are you doing?” Cerick had wandered back over to his sister.

“Making them kiss,” Veru said matter-of-factly. “Like you said.”

“I didn’t say they _kiss_ , Veru,” Cerick said dismissively. “I said that Spock spends so much time staring at the Captain, it’s a wonder he doesn’t drag him into the turbolift for a blowjob halfway through their shift.” With that, he abruptly grabbed Spock, bent his legs at the precisely manufactured knee-joints, and set him down decisively in front of Jim.

 _Well….this is awkward._

Spock didn’t answer, and panic flooded through Jim, a sudden fear that the figure in front of him really was just a plastic toy, that Spock was gone. _Spock?_

 _I am here, Captain._ Jim sighed in relief, never mind the fact that “here” was exactly at groin level, and that he could actually feel his phantom cock stiffening in arousal.

 _Not exactly how I’d imagined it,_ Jim thought ruefully.

 _Captain?_

 _Oh shit. Did I think that out loud?_ Jim hadn’t quite gotten the hang of this whole think-talking thing.

 _You had previously…imagined…this situation?_ , Spock thought-asked him.

 _Well, not this exact one,_ Jim mused. _For one thing, my pants weren’t quite so…attached to my body._ He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he could almost feel the hitch of Spock’s breath in response. _Is it true what Cerick said, Spock?_ he thought quietly. _Do you stare at me on the bridge?_

 _Keenser._

Spock’s answer caught Jim off guard. _I…what? Oh. Well, okay, then. I have to say, I would not have-_

 _ **Captain**!_ Spock interrupted his stammering. _I can see Ensign Keenser behind you. He does not appear to have noticed us. We must try to get his attention if we wish to be rescued._

Kirk repressed an internal sigh at the fact that Spock was coming up with rescue plans while his lips were millimeters away from Jim’s crotch, lacking though it was in certain lifelike details.

 _He is approaching._

Keenser’s face loomed up beside them and he gave a small squeak as he caught sight of the diminutive renderings of his commanding officers.

 _Keenser!_ Jim yelled. _Help! Get us out of here!_

Keenser’s beady eyes flicked over their figures, but he didn’t answer. A crackling sound came from his throat, and Jim realized that he was laughing.

 _It’s not funny! Get us out of here, I’m not kidding! Keenser, you have to help us!_

Keenser reached up to grab hold of Kirk, taking him off the table and holding him up to peer more closely at him, turning him upside down and backwards. _What are you – is he staring at my ass? Keenser, put me down!_

Keenser set Jim back down on the table and picked Spock up. He turned him around, bending and unbending his elbows and knees. With another crackling laugh, he bent Spock in half at the waist, set him down in front of Jim, and walked away.

Jim watched him leave with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, which was only somewhat masked by the spike of hot desire that shot through him at the realization that Spock’s perfectly molded ass was pressed up against his own deceptively smooth pelvis.

 _Captain…_ Spock started, and Jim had never heard a more distressed tone in his first officer’s voice.

 _I know, Spock. Guess we shouldn’t expect that rescue any time soon._ A sudden thought occurred to him. _Hey, Spock. Do you think we’re going to get out of this alive?_

 _I am sure the crew is currently putting forth their utmost effort toward our recovery._

 _Right, yeah, of course._ Jim was quiet for a moment before he continued hesitantly. _It’s just that, if not…I mean, if you think we might die…we should, you know. Share. Our last thoughts, you know? Just in case._

 _I find myself unable to estimate the odds of our survival or rescue. Although…I thought that you did not believe in no-win scenarios._

 _Well, yeah. But…there’s a chance though, right? That we might die, or…or be stuck like this?_

 _There is a chance._

 _Is there…is there anything you want to tell me? Anything you’d want me to know, you know…before we die?_

Spock seemed to hesitate before he answered. _Perhaps you should begin_.

Jim was suddenly shy. He could feel his cheeks flushing, his fingers trying to flex like he could grab a hold of Spock’s hips. The thought was almost too much to bear.

 _I wanted to hug you,_ Jim confessed. _Before, when Veru was holding us together. I had this weird though, like I wanted to just wrap my arms around you and bury my face in your neck and just, like, _smell_ you. God, that sounds creepy. What would you have done, Spock, if I had done that?_

 _I would have welcomed it._

 _You…really?_

 _Yes, Jim._

Jim felt his cock swell, and he once again cursed whoever had left key parts of his anatomy off of this otherwise keenly detailed and fully-articulated new body of his. _And what if I had kissed you, then_ , he thought breathlessly. _If we weren’t stupid, plastic, anatomically incorrect action figures, would you let me kiss you?_

 _I would._

 _Argh, it’s killing me, Spock…being so close to you and not being able to touch. It’s almost like I can feel you, in my mind, what your skin feels like beneath my fingers, your lips against mine, our tongues sliding together-_

He was sure Spock had just thought a small moan.

 _Can you feel it, Spock_ , he asked huskily.

 _I…yes. Jim, are you…aroused?_

 _Yeah, I’m fuckin’ aroused. Fuck, Spock, I can’t – I’m so fucking hard, and I feel like I’m burning up from the inside. I want-_ He interrupted himself with a harsh chuckle, not sure if he should go on.

 _What, Jim? Tell me_ , Spock demanded.

 _I just want to press up against you, nothing in between us. I want to feel the heat of your body, I want…_

 _Yes?_ Spock’s voice was tight, like he was holding on, and it severed the last of Jim’s restraint.

 _I want to be inside you, Spock,_ he whispered, his voice breaking as he let the last of his self-control go. _I’m staring at your ass right now, and all I can think about is how I want to work you open. I want to spread your cheeks apart and feast on you, press my tongue into you, taste you, make you feel it – so hot and wet – would you let me do that, Spock?_

 _Yes_ , Spock hissed, _only-_

 _Only what, Spock? Anything…_

 _Only you must not linger. You…you must-_

 _What, Spock? You’re rocking back against me, wanting more, but it’s not enough, is it, Spock?_

He could sense the desperation in Spock’s voice, in Spock’s mind, as he answered, _It is not_.

 _You want my cock, you’re desperate for it. I can feel you waiting for it, trembling beneath me as I press the tip inside, fuck, you feel so good, so tight and hot, just like I've always imagined-_

 _More, Jim_ , Spock urged, sending sparks of gratified pleasure through Jim. _I want…I want all of you._

 _And you will have it, Spock, my dick inside you, filling you up, sliding, pumping, out and in, and you won’t just lie there and take it, will you? You’ll buck back against me, grab my hip and pull me in, so far and deep inside you._

 _Yes!_

 _What else, Spock, talk to me, tell me._

 _Your lips, Jim – I want them on my-_

 _Where? Tell me._

 _On my ear-_

 _Ungh, god yes, I’m kissing your ear, tugging it between my teeth as I thrust into you, Spock, you feel so good. Can you feel it, can you feel my fingers wrapped around your perfect cock? I can feel you, Spock, clenching around me, and oh god it feels, unh, it’s so good Spock, fuck Spock!_ Jim’s mind went blank as the sensation of his orgasm traveled up through his belly and radiated out through his limbs. He felt himself shudder, heard the dull clack as his head hit the table. When his vision came back, he found himself staring at the ceiling.

 _Jim?_

 _I’m here, Spock, I…I think my orgasm made me fall over._

 _Does that happen often, Captain?_ Spock asked dryly.

Jim snorted a laugh. _Fuck, Spock, that was…shit. I swear, if we ever get out of this, I’ll never take my hands off of you._

 _That might raise certain logistical difficulties._

Jim laughed despite himself. _Yeah, well. I don’t really give a shit._ And he really didn’t. As he lay catching his non-existent breath, Jim felt lighter, free, like a great burden had been lifted from him, and he wanted to say something to Spock about it, about how the weight of what had been unsaid between them had been pinning them down, holding them in place, and now that it was out in the open they could be even better, even more than they already were together.

He was saved from expressing his half-formed grand romantic thoughts by the sound of voices, as Veru and Cerick tromped back into the room, arguing loudly.

“Go play with your own toys,” Cerick was yelling at his sister.

“You don’t tell me what to do! I’m gonna tell Papa you yelled at me,” Veru yelled back.

“Fine! After all that Papa did for you, making the Enterprise chase us to Polaris IV, just so you could get your dumb Captain Kirk and Doctor Spock-“

“ _Commander_ Spock!” Veru corrected.

“Whatever, and now you’re not even playing with them!”

“Oh yeah, well last year you wanted a tribble, and now you hardly ever even go visit the tribbletarium!”

Cerick wrinkled his nose. “They smell weird.”

Veru looked like she was winding up for another insult, but instead she gasped out loud at the sight of Kirk and Spock. “What are they _doing_?” she asked, moving over to the table. Kirk was flat on his back, and Spock was still bent at the waist.

“Ha, looks like Mr. Spock’s grabbing his ankles. Told you he likes taking it from his captain!” Cerick crowed.

 _Insolent, depraved children_ , Spock thought at Jim.

 _Well it’s true_ , Jim responded, feeling smug.

 _Nevertheless. They are children, and they should not be engaging in-_

“Hey Veru, watch this,” Cerick said, straightening Spock out. He wiggled him and spoke in a serious voice. “’Captain, we are imprisoned on a hostile planet.’” He picked up Kirk and held him up a few inches away. “’Oh Spock, what _ever_ shall we do?’” he asked in a high-pitched voice.

 _What the fuck? Why do I sound like some damsel in distress?_ Kirk sputtered. He could sense Spock’s amusement spanning the space between them. _And you can wipe that smirk off your mind_ , he warned him.

“’Well, Captain,’” Cerick continued, deepening his voice once again, “’as there seems to be no hope for our rescue, I suggest that we give in to our base desires and spend our last moments engaged in the mutual pleasuring of each other.’”

Kirk was thankful that toys couldn’t blush, because Cerick’s interpretation sounded a little too close to what had actually just transpired between his first officer and himself.

“’Oh yes, Spock!’” Cerick squeaked, “’I’ve always wanted to wrap my lips around your throbbing manhood!’”

 _Okay, now that is just inappropriate,_ Kirk thought. _What the hell have these children been watching?_

 _And yet, it is true._

 _Shut up._

Cerick arranged them clumsily, Spock on his back and Kirk laying face down on top of him, face-to-groin. Then he ran from the room, off to terrorize the next unlucky being to cross his path, his sister trailing behind him yelling, “Cerick, you’re so GAY!”

It happened in an instant. One second Kirk was bemoaning his fate, lips frozen tauntingly close to the shiny black crotch of Spock’s acrylic-painted uniform – there was a flash of light, and the next thing he knew, his face was pressed into the warm fabric of a pair of Starfleet regulation trousers.

He sucked in a startled breath as feeling returned to his limbs, and the scent of Spock’s musky arousal filled his nostrils, threatening to overwhelm him. He rolled away quickly, but not before he felt the twitch of a very lifelike erection against his cheek. Spock sat up hurriedly beside him, and Jim took in the sight of his First Officer, hair mussed, cheeks flushed a light green, lips parted and damp, pupils blown wide with desire. Jim felt the ache of his own stiffening cock, and he was suddenly, painfully aware of the stares of the others in the room. Fuck. If he looked anything like his sexily rumpled First, they must be quite the sight.

“Jim!” Bones was rushing towards him, offering him a hand, but Jim waved him off and pulled his knees up to his chest.

“I’m okay, Bones. I just…need a second.”

He caught Spock’s glance out of the corner of his eye and bit back a smile.

“What, uh…what happened?” he managed to ask Uhura, who he was happy to see was standing next to Scotty, both looking alive and well.

“It’s…kind of a long story,” Uhura said, eyeing them suspiciously. “Maybe we should reconvene in a few-“

“Got him!” Scotty shouted triumphantly, as Keenser materialized beside them on the transporter pad.

“YOU!” Kirk bellowed, pointing at him. Keenser looked desperately to Scotty for help, but Kirk was too quick. “Oh, I don’t think so. You’re headed to the brig, buddy, for…for insubordination!”

“Why?” Scotty asked, looking back and forth between them. “What’d he do?”

“He…he…”

Jim felt a gentle hand close around his wrist, and looked up to find Spock watching him, calming him with his very gaze.

 _As I recall it, Captain, we are in Keenser’s debt._

 _Whoa, Spock! Check it out – we can still do that mind-speaking thing!_

 _It appears so._

 _It appears **awesome**!_

“Captain?” Scotty’s voice interrupted their discovery, and Jim wrenched his attention away from Spock.

“Keenser, you’re free to go. Uhura…we’ll meet you in the conference room in ten minutes, and I expect to hear the whole story.”

Uhura raised an eyebrow at him. “So do we.”

*

Jim brushed Spock’s fingers with his own as they hurried into the conference room. The command team was already gathered, and looked at them expectantly as they entered, almost fifteen minutes later than promised.

“Uh, sorry,” Jim said, running a hand over the back of his neck and avoiding five pairs of reproachful eyes. “Spock and I just had to, um….debrief.” He cringed, and Bones snorted in amusement.

“I’ll bet you did.”

Jim glared at him and took a seat, straightened up, and in his most captainly voice, ordered Uhura to report.

As it turned out, Keenser’s abduction had been an elaborate ruse to goad the Enterprise into pursuing the ambassador’s ship and following them to Polaris IV. Apparently, Veru had decided that she wanted a Kirk and Spock of her very own, and she could be very persuasive when she turned on the tears. And so they’d gone to the Toymaker, who proceeded to help her father give Veru exactly what she wanted for Christmas.

Uhura and Scotty had managed to capture and interrogate the Toymaker, who told them what he’d done, though he was vague on the details of how and implied that the factory had come with some rather mystical properties when he’d purchased it several centuries earlier. Still, Scotty had managed to figure out how to reverse the process, while Uhura had convinced the Toymaker to release the Vulcans, or at least offer them a fair wage to stay on as employees on the frigid factory floor.

Kirk explained how he and Spock had ended up gift wrapped and manhandled, and after some hemming and hawing, confessed that he and Spock had used the opportunity to share some of the secrets that they hadn’t wanted to take to the grave.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Uhura interrupted. “You thought you were going to _die_?”

“Well…maybe?”

“Captain, it took us less than 24 hours to track you down, force a confession from a giant, demented Santa Claus, find a way to reverse Christmas magic, and free an entire colony of Vulcan elf-slaves. Please, have a little faith.”

Jim grimaced and gave Spock a sheepish look. “Perhaps we did give up a _little_ too quickly back there,” he murmured.

“Perhaps,” Spock agreed out loud. _Or perhaps the Toymaker has fulfilled more Christmas wishes than he knows._

The corner of Jim’s lips quirked up in a smile. _Spock,_ he thought, with a squeeze of his fingers, _I like the way you think._


End file.
